


Righteous Monstrosity

by coffeefox2k



Series: Righteous Monstrosity [1]
Category: Hellsing, Hellsing Ultimate, Manga - Fandom, anime - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hellsing AU - Freeform, Vampire!Anderson, Vampires, priest becomes vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 13:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14426460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeefox2k/pseuds/coffeefox2k
Summary: When the Paladin of Iscariot becomes a monster he is supposed to hunt, will he succumb to his vampiric urges or will he fight for the cause he pledged to many years ago...





	Righteous Monstrosity

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my very first fanfiction/au I am posting here! I am a little nervous about it aha but I really hope you enjoy! Also, Anderon has a Scottish accent and I tried my best to write it well. If a sentence doesn't read well, try saying it out loud. It helps with odd dialects.
> 
> In this chapter, we see Anderson go on a mission that doesn't go quite right...

 

 

“So ye are tellin’ me there’s _how many_ vampires in this town?”

“Two. And they are heavily armed. But it should not be a problem for you, right?”

 

The silver-haired priest looked to the other priest in front of him as he held the file. His green eyes flicked over the information, not too concerned with the town’s history. He stopped once he got to the death toll and odd occurrences from the past 5 years.

“Hm… seems there’s been freaks in the town fer a long time...,” the priest remarks. His fellow man of the cloth stiffened and cleared his throat.

“Ah, well yes. We always send someone to deal with them but they always seem to come back about a month or so later. We figure sending you in to deal with them permanently would be for the best, Anderson.”

Anderson grinned at the thought of finally going on another mission. “May God fergive the beasts, fer aie shall be his judge, his wrath, and his sword,” He stated, shutting the folder with a firm hand.

 

The small town of Ballater in Scotland was quaint, quiet, and beautiful. Most towns surrounded by trees and hills were, as the scenery was what added to it all. Father Alexander Anderson strolled around the town, the sun shining down and reflecting off his spectacles like a freshly polished sword. Ah, the peace and calm were so nice… it was always this way before his hunt... It made him rather excited… to think of stalking his monstrous prey and eradicating them in a gruesome way made his heart race. As he passed a flower shop, and an old lady shuffles out in a hurry.

“You there! Priest!” she exclaimed. Anderson stopped, confused as to why she stopped him.

“Yes, ma’m? Are you in need of anything?” he asked as he walked to her. He looked at her, her appearance consisted of a conservative dress that hugged her stout figure, a shawl over her shoulders and a tight grey bun with minimal flyaways was atop her head. Her skin was wrinkled looking, and her soft blue eyes held a look of concern.

“Father, I feel somethin’ bad. Something bad is comin’ to ye, and it’s gon be a major change fer yer whole life…” She took his hand and held it close.

“But do not worry, laddie… God wern’t abandon ye, ne matter what…” She said. Anderson was very confused by her statement and held her hand in return.

“Thank ye, ma’m. But please dinne worry fer me, I can hold me own,” he tried to reassure. She shook her head and looked at him with an even more pleading look.

“I know, I know… but what ye will go through shall seem God doen’t love ye… that he abandoned ye… but ye shall be held in his hand ne matta what ye go through, lad,” she said, tears in her eyes now. Anderson felt confused and worried for the old lady. He consoled her as best he could, still very perplexed by what she meant. By the end of the small ordeal, Anderson left with a single white rose, and even more confusion. What did the old lady mean by her statement? It was so odd and troubling… No matter.

Anderson smelled his rose as he walked back to his small motel to await the night. He chuckled to himself in a deep tone as he reached his hotel. The hunt will begin soon…

 

The night had fallen across the town, and Anderson was sitting in his room, praying.

“God, give me the strength to fight the abominations. Give me yer guidance. Give me yer will. Give me yer blessin to slay these beasts and put their tortured souls to rest. Amen….,” he stated before standing and going out.

The building where the reported vampires were seen entering was at the end of the town- an abandoned butchery from the early 30’s. Figures those freaks would want to live in a kill house…

He opened the door to the slaughterhouse to be greeted with glowing red eyes and grunts and groans. Ghouls. Everywhere. He smirked, his glasses hiding his eyes as they reflected the night time light. Two blessed bayonets were unsheathed and they gleamed in the moonlight.

“Ello, ye freaks… an now goodbye,” he laughed, running through the ghouls as he slices them to bits. Heads, limbs, guts, and blood decorated the dark walls as he raced through them. Once he was at the end of the hall, he turned back to see the death he had handed out. He grinned, laughing to himself as he turned to continue through the maze that was the slaughterhouse. The broken down building had cracks, broken places, rotted spots, and rusted metal everywhere. It was charming, in the same sense of how a dilapidated city was charming. Empty, old, and eerie. Anderson came to a window, looking outside at the city below. No wonder the vampires chose here… you could see the entire town below.

He was brought out of his little thinking by the sound of guns being cocked. He turned his head to peak over his shoulder to see two red-eyed young men standing nervously with two sub-machine guns each.

“L-Look ere’ ya bastard!! We worked too ard to be knocked out so easily! So if ye think we’re gon go down witout a fite, yer just fuckin’ thick!” the closest one exclaimed. Anderson grinned.

“Do not think that aie have come ta bring peace to this earth. Aie have not come to bring peace, but a sword…,” he quoted, his grip tightening on this bayonets. He turned fully to the vampires behind him, smiling like a madman would.

“An my swords are meant to cut the likes a you freaks down!,” he exclaimed. The vampires opened fire on Anderson, bullets filling his chest. Blood spurted from his mouth and wounds as he fell backward against the window, sliding down and leaving a red trail as he did so. His bayonets fell out of his hands as he collapsed, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. The two vampires blinked for a moment, turning to each other.

“Do ye tink that were too easy, Dante?,” one of them asked. Dante shrugged, and they both looked back to Anderson’s limp body. They gulped lightly, Dante began to chuckle.

“Serves the madman rite! Tryin’ ta take us on! Come on, les go get some more blood, Jay,” he said as they turned to leave. Suddenly, pieces of glowing paper with bayonets were stabbed into the hallway walls, surrounding the vampire duo.

“Wit the hell!?” Jay exclaimed. He tried to touch the wall but was shocked, screeching in pain. Dante tried as well, only to be met with the same painful shock. A maniacal chuckle came from behind them. They turned back to see Anderson standing back up.

“Ye freaks cannot get through that… that be a barrier,” He stated, holding his bayonets with a firm grip as he began to walk towards them.

“No!! That ain possible! Wit the fuck are ye?!” Jay shrieked as he held his gun back up, shooting Anderson more. Anderson ducked down and charged the duo, a bayonet slicing off the arms of the shooting vampire. Jay screamed, his fangs visible as his agony-filled cry echoed in the building. With another fell swipe of his blade, the poor creatures head was relieved of its position on his neck. As his body turned to dust, Dante starred in utter horror. Anderson grinned, his blades shining in the moonlight.

“Run, ye little freak. Make it fun fer me…,” Anderson stated. Taking the priests advice, Dante turned and ran down the hall. Anderson laughed. The hunt was on…

 

Dante reached the end of the hall, touching the wall only to get shocked as he tried to open the door. He began to hyperventilate.

“No.. No… this ain’t how aie wanna die… this ain’t how aie wanna die… God help me!!!”

“God don’t help freaks like yerself, I’m afraid,” came a deep Scottish tone behind the frightened vampire. He turned around, firing his bullets into the darkness, screaming as he did so. The deafening click of his clip running out filled the air, and Dante began to cry. A bayonet flew through the air, piercing the vampire’s neck, and impaled him to the wall he was standing in front of. He gave a gurgled noise of fear and horror as the priest emerged from the dark, his bayonets shining like snow…

“P-Please…,” the vampire managed to gurgle out as he gripped the bayonet handle, his hand searing as he touched it. Bloody tears streamed down his pale cheeks as he watched the priest get closer and closer, his smile growing with each dreaded step. He stopped in front of the vampire, watching him struggle for a bit.

“Y’know, I almost feel forry fer ye… afta all, ye may be a monster… but you don deserve to suffer…,” He said as he watched the whimpering creature before him. He raised his holy bayonet and sliced off the creature’s head. As his body turned to ash, Anderson said a little prayer for the vampires he had killed.

“God, have pity on these beasts, fer they were once yer creations. Let their punishment be swift, but let it be over so that they may one day be wit ye in heaven...Amen,” he said quietly. As he reached to grab they bayonet in the wall, he felt the air in the hallway drop at least 10 degrees. A chill went down his spine as he saw his breath before him, like a cloud of smoke.

“Wit…,” he asked himself. He suddenly felt a hard, fast pain in the back of his neck. He let a cry out as he fell to the ground. His vision faded to black before he hit the ground, and all he remembered was a soft voice.

“ _Rest now… for it is time to become what you are meant to be…_ ,” the voice rang through his unconscious mind. The voice had no distinct gender to it because it sounded like multiple voices over one. What he was meant to be….?

 

After what seemed like only a moment, Anderson’s eyes fluttered open. He groaned, sitting up and back onto his legs as he looked around. He was still in the slaughterhouse, and it was still night time. The air had returned to its original temperature and the barrier was still up. What had happened? He rubbed the back of his neck where it felt like someone had hit him with a hard metal object… like a pipe or something. He stood his legs rather wobbly as he felt very light headed… and _cold_. He stumbled to the wall where a shattered mirror was, holding himself up with the structure. He groaned, and looked in the mirror for a moment but immediately did a double take.

His skin was so… pale… he had dark bags under his eyes and his lips were almost a blue shade… his eyes… his eyes were an odd mix of red and green and had a luminescent glow to them. He swallowed hard, shivering slightly as he saw his cassock neck was opened when he normally had it closed. He shifted his head to the left and his stomach felt like it was gonna lurch out of him… two unmistakable holes were punctured where his jugular vein ran… he stared at his reflection, his eyes becoming redder as his look of horror persisted. He then hesitantly slid his lips back...and saw two razor-sharp fangs in place of his canines….

 

“Dear Lord…no...no...NO!!!!!!!!!!”


End file.
